


before the setting sun

by erzi



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 14:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15269358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erzi/pseuds/erzi
Summary: Fallen leaves and pine needles litter the mud and sand squishy beneath their shoes. The cluster of pines ends where the ground entirely becomes sand in a curious black color. That stretches on to meet the calmly lapping waters, glittering in the pink-and-orange light of the setting sun.It's obvious why Yusuke wanted to paint this.





	before the setting sun

Soft music cuts through Akira's dream. He blearily opens his eyes, glaring about his room for the noisy culprit. There, on the windowsill: his phone, alive with white light amid the yellow of early afternoon. He fumbles for it, and the last traces of sleep that had yet to be lifted from him do so now – it's 3:00 pm, July 23, and he has a date with Yusuke at the beach.

Okay, not a date. A... rendezvous? Yusuke had wanted him to accompany him on a beach trip. Akira had agreed with a smile. Then Yusuke had told him to set an alarm for 3:00 pm, when he usually napped, so they'd be there on time to see the sun set. His smile had faltered then, but he didn't change his mind. Obviously. It's the closest he can get to a date with Yusuke. And refusing Yusuke, bright-eyed and entranced by the simplest of things, because the time for their meet-up was inconvenient was unthinkable.

So. Here he is, on a Monday, summer vacation, three in the afternoon, upsetting Morgana by wriggling out from under the covers so he can get changed, all for Yusuke. The song he'd set as the alarm continues to play. He had chosen it as a private joke, as its title reminded him of Yusuke, but it's nice to listen to. The singer's voice is easy on the ears, as are the instruments that croon in the background. Slow and steady music to end what Akira hopes is a slow and steady day.

Throwing on passable clothes (but still matching; he _is_ meeting Yusuke) and then his glasses, he pats Morgana goodbye and leaves Sojiro, out shopping, a note detailing his whereabouts:

_Off to Miho no Matsubara in Shizuoka with Yusuke. Back whenever._

He walks to the station. He'll be early, so he's thinking how best to greet Yusuke once Yusuke gets there. A simple 'hey,' with a backwards nod of the head, hands jauntily in his pockets? No; Yusuke isn't the kind of person who'd really understand that. Maybe a smiling 'hello' and a small wave? Hmm... the wave would be too much, but he should flash a smile – not the polite smile that the world sees, but the one he gives Yusuke, and magnified. _I was sleeping but I came here_ , it would say, _because you wanted me to._

Except he doesn't get to coolly flaunt for Yusuke, because Yusuke is already there, a large and lumpy bag slung over his shoulder.

"Ah, Akira! I'm here," he calls, waving him over, as if Akira wouldn't spot him a kilometer away. "Thank you for indulging my request." He studies Akira. "Were you sleeping?"

Akira blinks. "Yes, why?"

"Your hair is even messier than usual."

Immediately Akira's hand goes up to his head, flattening his bedhead. "Sorry," he mumbles, although part of him is a little happy Yusuke is familiar enough with him he would notice. Akira himself didn't.

"Why are you apologizing? It should be me. I didn't realize anyone would be sleeping at three in the afternoon."

When Yusuke says it, though not maliciously, Akira feels kind of useless. "...I like naps."

"If you are tired," Yusuke says, frowning, "you can go back home. I won't be offended. I can do this trip alone-"

Akira vehemently shakes his head. "I'm going with you."

"Are you sure?"

A nod, not too eager.

"If you say so." Yusuke brightens. "You could sleep on my shoulder! It will be a three hour ride, after all."

Another nod, this one definitely eager.

Akira knows Yusuke brightened because he'd found a solution, not because he's particularly excited about it. Still, it's nice to hope.

They're able to find seats on the train, backs to a window. Akira takes Yusuke up on his offer. He's not tired anymore, much less when it's Yusuke he's using as a pillow, but he's not dumb enough to let this opportunity slip by.

Yusuke is not very comfortable. He is tall and skinny; his shoulder bone juts into Akira's cheek like a knife. It doesn't bother him, though. That's a person's arm; it's _Yusuke's_ arm. He wears a loose long-sleeved shirt, the fabric soft and cool. His body heat doesn't seep through it and to Akira. Only the shape of him. It is _that_ which is comfortable: Yusuke, tangibly next to him, at ease with letting Akira rest on him as the train quietly glides on its tracks, the sun flickering behind them.

Of course Akira doesn't get any sleep. How could he in this situation? He closes his eyes anyway, focused on this moment, locking away what the rest of his senses describe so he'll remember it tomorrow and every tomorrow thereafter.

For his part, Yusuke sits still. Akira peeks open an eye, seeing through the haze of his eyelashes that Yusuke is lost in thought. His eyes are ahead of him, but they focus elsewhere. Inside of his own head, Akira is sure. The corner of Akira's mouth curls up. The inside of Yusuke's head would be as wild and eccentric as himself, bursting with creative thoughts that quickly bounce from one to another without much sense to an onlooker. But it all makes sense to Yusuke, in the funny and hopelessly endearing way he functions.

The train takes a sharp turn, its momentum pushing Akira further into Yusuke. The surprise of it makes both his eyes flick open, and they widen further when he sees Yusuke's other hand has darted around him, keeping him in place. He looks between it and Yusuke, whose expression is as unflappable as ever.

"You could have fallen," Yusuke explains, withdrawing his hand now that the train is smoothly on course, to Akira's private disappointment. "I hope you do not mind I did that."

"I don't." That's an understatement. "Thanks." He tugs at his hair. "Is it fine if I still lean on you?"

Yusuke nods, and returns to his imagination.

Akira suppresses a sigh. Yusuke will never read into the fine lines Akira weaves every now and then. It's probably never even occurred to Yusuke someone could be interested in him not for his art, but for _him_ : in his long-limbed elegance, in the passions he pursues to perfection, in all his idiosyncrasies.

Yusuke was odd, yes. But for Akira, he was just right.

He'll tell him. Eventually. Keeping it to himself doesn't hurt him much because he has Yusuke anyway, even if it is as his friend only. Besides, seeing how far he can flirt while Yusuke is oblivious is a game of its own. A torturous game, with seemingly no winner, but a game.

Like now. Akira twines his arm around Yusuke's, cozying up to him. Should Yusuke ask the reason for it, he has an excuse ready: 'You're taller, and this is more comfortable.'

Yusuke doesn't ask. Just accepts it, not even glancing at Akira. It simultaneously pleases and annoys him.

Three train changes and one bus ride later, Yusuke, thinking him truly asleep, gently shakes his shoulder.

"We've arrived," Yusuke says, standing and fixing the bag on his shoulder. "We walk from here out a little over a kilometer."

Akira frowns as they step out of the bus, the muggy humidity immediately enveloping him. "In this weather?"

"It's not as if we can change it, so yes."

Not what Akira meant. It makes him smile, though.

Yusuke glances at the map on his phone. "This way," he says, pointing rightward.

The trill of cicadas, hidden in the trees arched and twisted over the sidewalk, follows them. As sunset is nearing, their song is subdued, a perfect static background noise to this quintessential coastal summer evening. The air smells fresher here, like the sea and pine trees. A breeze stirs lazily, fluttering Yusuke's shirt and hair. Before Akira can fix them for him, Yusuke is fussily smoothing them down. Akira puts his hand down, eyes swinging back to the stone walkway in front of them.

"This is it," Yusuke announces.

The steps they had ascended led them into a pine grove. Ahead is the sea.

Fallen leaves and pine needles litter the mud and sand squishy beneath their shoes. The cluster of pines ends where the ground entirely becomes sand in a curious black color. That stretches on to meet the calmly lapping waters, glittering in the pink-and-orange light of the setting sun.

It's obvious why Yusuke wanted to paint this.

"Where are you setting up?" Akira asks him.

"Further up," Yusuke says, walking.

Akira follows him and almost bumps into him when Yusuke suddenly stops. He's doing that very-Yusuke thing, framing what he sees in front of him with his fingers.

"Magnificent," he mutters.

It is Mount Fuji, looming in the horizon, half painted like the sea, half cast in shadow.

Yusuke puts his bag down and sits on the sand. "I'll be painting at this spot," he says, rummaging through the bag's contents, getting out a small canvas, paints, and a palette.

It is now that Akira realizes he doesn't actually know why he is here. Part of him figured Yusuke would stand as he painted, and needed him as a human easel. But he's sitting and seems to know what he will be doing. Akira slowly sits next to him, watching, wondering.

On his palette, Yusuke squeezes out a bit of paint from several bottles. They match the colors Akira sees: the warm tones the sun dyes the beach with, the blues of the mountain and shadows. The dollops of paint look like frosting.

"Are you hungry?" Akira says.

"Somewhat," Yusuke admits, "but I must paint. Acrylics dry quickly, and I have to finish this before the sun completely sets."

Akira considers this. "I'll be right back," he says, dusting sand off him as he stands and walks to a store they'd passed earlier. He buys a bag of chips – the brand Yusuke likes – as well as two bottles of water. Then he goes back to the beach.

Yusuke has already painted a good portion of the sky, at least its rosy colors. His concentration is unbroken as Akira sits next to him again. But his eyebrow does twitch when Akira opens the bag of chips with a crinkle.

"Here," Akira says, holding out a chip to Yusuke. He makes a conscious effort to keep his expression neutral.

Yusuke pauses and grabs the chip. "Thank you." The salt on the chip as well as Yusuke's hand brush Akira's fingertip. Yusuke pops it in his mouth and is immediately back to his work, now with his lips curved into a small smile.

"I got water too," Akira adds, trying not to sound too smug, "if you're thirsty."

"Not right now. I might need it for diluting the paint."

"Sure. Let me know when."

Yusuke faces him, smile wider. "Certainly."

He goes back to his painting. Sometimes he asks Akira to hand him a particular brush or paint, so Akira guesses this is why he was asked to come along. As an assistant. Out of their small circle of friends, Yusuke had chosen him. It might be a simple task, but Akira is privately very happy. He takes it seriously and thinks ahead, wordlessly handing Yusuke a chip every so often. Twice he hands him the water: once for a drink, once for his paints. The painting takes shape, looking more and more like what lies physically in front of them. Yusuke captures it all, down to the glimmer in the water, to the cooling fire in the sky.

Akira leans in closer to get a better view. Their knees bump. Yusuke doesn't react to it. Whether it is because his painting has his full attention or because he doesn't care, Akira does not know.

"Round brush, please," Yusuke says.

Dutifully, Akira pulls it out from the cup holding Yusuke's brushes. He'd learned some of their names during this session. He will try to remember them.

Akira leans in again. The sun in the painting hangs higher up than the sun presently low in the sky, ready to dip below the water.

"How do you know what to paint when what you're painting is changing?" he asks.

"I remember how the sun looked like at that point," Yusuke replies, handing back the brush. "Detail round brush, please."

"The really tiny one, right?"

"Correct."

Akira obliges. "So then why still look up for reference?"

"Some things do not change. And sometimes, when things _do_ change, combining the new and old gives better results." Yusuke taps his mouth thoughtfully. "Hm. Think of this way: I am not necessarily painting what I see in front of me, but what I saw, what I still see, and what I think I will see. It is not a portrait, but an.... ideal, I suppose."

"Romantic," Akira says, half-jokingly.

Yusuke smiles. "Isn't it? Art need not explain. It can explore."

His enthusiasm is contagious. Akira smiles back. "Maybe you could teach me how to paint?" he suggests, now that they're here.

If the sun had been rising instead, it would not have matched Yusuke's glow. "You want to learn?"

Akira leans back, pressing his weight onto his palms, flat on the wet sand. He grins despite – maybe _in_ spite – of the nervous flips his heart is doing. "If you're the teacher."

"Tomorrow! We can start tomorrow. If you have time?" 

Akira nods. "It's summer vacation. I have a lot of time."

"We can start with still life, and there is plenty of that at Leblanc. I'll bring my supplies over at... say, noon?"

"Sounds like a da- plan." Akira pushes his glasses up his nose, coughing lightly.

Yusuke returns to his painting, adding small details. Soon, he is done, sighing contentedly. He holds the canvas at arm's length, comparing it to the scene behind it, the last rays of the sun lighting him and the painting. "Beautiful."

"Yes," Akira says, eyes on Yusuke.

The sun at last disappears.

**Author's Note:**

> did this for a friend but i'm putting it up here to water the shukita ao3 crops. the song i was thinking of at the beginning was [ this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AueFEnoXBK8) one, which is called gray and blue... like yusuke... wow. the title is also a slightly altered lyric from that song


End file.
